


Yeah, but

by mandykaysfic



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 02:05:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandykaysfic/pseuds/mandykaysfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine you're offered a sapphire necklace, and you say “Yeah, but I really wanted a jade bracelet.” Rodney invoked the 'yeah, buts' all of his life until he finally realized he didn't need to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yeah, but

**Author's Note:**

> Acknowledgements to Mark Twain, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Buddha and Wallace D. Wattles for their quotations on the subject of gratitude, Charlie Gilkey for the 'yeah, buts' and Johnny Cash for Thanksgiving Prayer and the lines I'm thankful a pair of shoes etc.

_1972_

"I don't know, Mona." Meredith's mother watched her young son struggle to fasten the band of his new watch around his wrist. She didn't offer to help; Meredith would only insist he could do it himself. She'd also noted the expression on his face when he'd been handed the present from his Aunt and Uncle. The bright Christmas paper and large silver bow had only emphasized its small size. She sipped her sherry and wished for something stronger.

"You said he could practically tell the time."

"Hours and half hours at least."

"There you go then. This is something that will challenge him. One simply cannot give books every time a gift is required. Besides, he's such a difficult child to find something appropriate for – you've said so yourself."

"Well, perhaps if you'd picked one with a Velcro band. He'd have been happy enough with that if he knew it was just like the astronauts use."

"I thought he was supposed to be too advanced for Velcro. This _is_ a child's watch. It has a clear, easy-to-read face and a picture of one of those superheroes he likes. The jeweler assured me it was the most popular one for a boy. I'm sure Meredith will conquer the mechanics of a proper watch band soon enough."

"I guess you're right." Mrs McKay suppressed a sigh. She noted without surprise her sherry glass was empty again; her sister and Meredith in the same room often had that effect on her.

"You must let me know how he gets on with it. Figuring out the intricacies of minutes and seconds should keep him occupied for quite some time. As it is, you should be thanking me – Gerald wanted to get him a chemistry set, but I convinced him you didn't need a new kitchen or living room just yet. Nor did you wish to be carted off to hospital after being poisoned. Or worse."

Thanking her sister turned out to be the last thing on her mind as the McKay family made the long road trip home. 

"We've been in the car five minutes and ten seconds. We've been in the car five minutes and fifteen seconds. We've been in the car five minutes and twenty seconds."

Even playing the radio loudly didn't completely drown out their new speaking clock service. 

~ 

"Meredith, I'm just about to call Aunt Mona. She and Uncle Gerald will be away over the New Year holiday and I want to catch her before they leave. She'll ask about your watch. What are you going to say to her?" She used her most encouraging tone. Meredith needed coaching in the social niceties and she'd learnt the hard way to try and find out in advance what he was likely to come out with. They'd worked on 'thank-you' throughout the festive season and she had high hopes he'd finally grasped the concept. She wondered at how easily he'd learned to read and yet basic good manners consistently eluded him. He simply said whatever was on his mind.

"I'll say Batman is the best superhero. Then I'll say she should always buy me Batman things. Not Superman. Nothing with Superman ever again. Superman should be called Stupidman, don't you think? Stupidman!"

She sighed. She was sure she and Mona hadn't caused their mother's hair to go grey until they were well into their teens. At least he hadn't shared his thoughts about 'Stupidman' on Christmas Day.

 

_1982_

"Happy Christmas, Mer." Jeannie handed her brother a brightly wrapped gift. She'd spent quite a bit of allowance on him. She hoped her parents wouldn't realize she'd skimped on them in favor of her brother. She'd spent a good ten minutes frowning over the tie she'd finally settled on for her father; while it was floral in an abstract kind of way, the dull red and blue splodges on the tan background made it appear fairly conservative and it had been a bargain at fifty percent off. The teapot for her mother had been an even bigger bargain. She'd picked it up, still in its original box, at a yard sale in the next suburb. A stealthy check of her mother's address book hadn't shown any friends living within a couple of blocks from where she'd found it, so she felt safe nobody would recognize it.

"Thanks," he muttered perfunctorily as he turned the page of his book. He tucked her offering next to his thigh and kept reading.

"Meredith!"

"What? Oh, sorry. Thank you, Jeannie, I'm sure. Um, Happy Christmas to you, too." He reached under his chair. "Here," he said and thrust a meticulously wrapped parcel at her.

Flat and square, it had to be a record. They didn't share the same taste in music, which was a worry. She dropped cross-legged to the floor and opened it slowly. 

"Mer!" she screamed. Not one, but two! A twelve inch single, 'Pass the Dutchie', and Joan Jett's album lay on her lap.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled. "Glad you like 'em."

"Aren't you going to see what your sister got you?" rumbled his father from across the room.

After carefully bookmarking his page, he tore away a corner of the Christmas paper. He smiled when he saw the familiar Star Trek logo. It was a figurine. "Please, please, please," he muttered to himself. He'd been to see The Wrath of Khan four times and he wanted Khan to add to his collection. Each time he'd been to the comic book store in the past month they'd been out of stock. His face dropped when he saw Will Decker. Underneath was a hardback copy of Arthur C. Clarke's '2010: Odyssey Two'. 

"Have it," he said automatically. "Did you keep the receipt? I could try and swap it for 'Life, the Universe and Everything'." He didn't say anything about exchanging Decker for Khan; nobody would be foolish enough to do that. He didn't notice Jeannie bite her lip as he returned to his book.

 

_1988_

He mightn't have been the most tidy of people when it came to clothing or other personal items and he really didn't care if his roommate or anyone else felt the need to pick up after him, but his desk was sacrosanct. There was a perfectly good bed and a spare chair on which to dump his possessions. He always made it abundantly clear within minutes of meeting someone that nothing found its way onto his desk he didn't personally place there. 

Rodney let slip a choice invective as he went to toss the offending item aside. There was no way a pale blue envelope would ever be anything official. He noted his name inked in fancy calligraphy, however when compared with what he'd bought, it didn't pique his curiosity enough to open it. Instead, he gloated over 'King's Quest IV: The Perils of Rosella' and a Sound Blaster sound card he'd been trying to get hold of for ages. The Sound Blaster was reputed to outperform the C/MS he currently used and he couldn't wait to get it installed.

"Rodney. Rodney!"

Several hours later, the sound of his name finally penetrated. 

"What? Oh, Derek, it's you. What did you want? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"So, um, did you open it?"

"Probably? I've opened lots of things today." His mind was mostly on the game and the review he planned to submit for CGW; in his opinion it ran slowly in parts but the musical score was superlative. 

"Er...."

Rodney had twelve more hours before he had to be back in the lab and he wanted to make every one count. Derek's mumbling wasn't helping any.

"What? Speak up or shut up," he ordered.

"I saw the exam results list. Congratulations. These are for you. To celebrate. You said you liked Tom Cruise. You know, in 'Top Gun'. I like him too. You mentioned you were free tonight and the Metro has a screening at eight." 

"I saw 'Top Gun' two years ago," Rodney said and then swore as the ogre blackjacked him for the fourth time.

"The tickets are for 'Cocktail'," explained Derek patiently.

"Cocktails? Tonight?" He scribbled a note on the pad next to the keyboard. "I don't know, Derek. I'm not that keen on cocktails. You can't be sure what's in them."

"The movie 'Cocktail'." It was doubtful Rodney noticed Derek's frustration. "I thought you might like to go. With me."

"Maybe later. I'd rather see 'Die Hard'. Anyway, I'm busy right now," replied Rodney vaguely as he pondered on how difficult it was to climb stairs while wearing a dress and whether he suggest Rosella be reprogrammed to wear trousers. He didn't notice Derek pick up the unopened envelope or slowly shake his head. He didn't hear the door to their room close. The only thing that got his attention was his stomach rumbling, which was when he realized the room was in darkness.

 

_2006_

"It was a pleasant ceremony." Teyla gave Elizabeth the details at the debriefing.

"Boring," put in Rodney without looking up from his tablet.

"The Grand Poohbah explained they believed in cultivating the habit of gratitude as it contributes to their advancement," continued Teyla, ignoring Rodney's interruption. She noted Elizabeth's lips tighten and eyes brighten. Obviously the title Grand Poohbah had a connotation other than that of leader. She'd ask for clarification later.

"And they're so very advanced."

"Rodney!" Elizabeth frowned at Rodney, but it was wasted as he kept his head down. "Go on, Teyla."

"It was quite formal. There was a set procedure to follow – various hand gestures accompanied certain phrases, but the participants could give thanks for anything, or anyone."

"Johnny Cash." Rodney couldn't keep quiet. "He gave quoted Johnny Cash. Teyla told them how Charin had taught her many things, including the joys of tuttleroot soup. Ronon thanked the great Doctor Beckett for fixing him up, and by the way, if you haven't gotten that far, his services are included in the trade. Then Sheppard thanked the one and only Johnny Cash."

"I don't see the problem." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Nobody gave away anything they shouldn't, unless…."

"It's okay. I haven't forgotten Dagan, you know. I followed Sheppard's example."

"You quoted Johnny Cash?"

"Mark Twain."

"Rodney, you didn't!" exclaimed Elizabeth after a brief pause.

"He did. _Let us be thankful for the fools. But for them the rest of us could not succeed._ " John leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling as he slowly enunciated every word.

"I suppose we should be grateful you didn't sing." Rodney looked pointedly at John and quoted, " _We’ve come to the time in the season._ " Rodney didn't sing either; it was one of Cash's songs he was not familiar with, but he gave the appropriate emphasis to the phrasing.

" _when family and friends gather near  
to offer a prayer of Thanksgiving   
for blessings we’ve known through the year.   
I'm thankful for a pair of shoes that feel really good on my feet. I like my shoes.   
I'm thankful for the birds. I feel like they're singing just for me when I get up in the morning, saying, 'Good morning, John. You made it, John.'_

"Shoes! Birds! Really? It doesn't even scan properly." His voice rose as his indignation soared.

"Could be because I took bits from two different things. They seemed appropriate. I thought the sentiment nicely matched the rest of the Poohbahs'. And besides, I am thankful for my shoes. I've got them broken in nicely," responded John.

"Huh. Well, if that's all there is, I've got things to do." Rodney took his tablet and was out of the room before anyone objected. He eschewed the labs in favor of his quarters where he flung himself onto his bed and covered his eyes with one arm. 

Introspection usually tended to lead Rodney to places he didn't like so he tried to avoid it, but this time his feelings made themselves pretty clear; he was jealous, and okay, hurt; he didn't get a thank-you from any of his team. Were none of them grateful for his expertise, his resourcefulness, his genius in saving their lives and making Atlantis a better, safer place? He supposed he could understand Teyla's feelings toward Charin, and Carson had solved Ronon's little issue with the Wraith tracking device, so that left him being jealous of Johnny Cash, of all people. Which logically must mean what he wanted was John's gratitude. Except Rodney knew it wasn't exactly gratitude. It was more like plain old _want_ , a healthy dose of desire, and the deep down conviction that the real reason his previous relationships had failed was because they were with the wrong person.

Rodney groaned. Whoever said the greatest gift was to share your enlightenment had no idea what they were talking about. Sharing it with only himself was positively heinous, let alone with others. He pictured the Poohbah's gratitude ceremony, where two by two, people held hands and gave thanks for someone or something that had made their life better. Could he have placed his hand over John's heart and told him and the rest of the assembled company how thankful he was that John was part of his life without giving away he was having an epiphany? That it was just then he'd realized he loved John Sheppard? 

It took coffee, a hot shower, and an urgent summons to the lab from Radek to assist with the latest crisis for Rodney to bury his feelings and return to something approaching normal, which fortunately for him was irascible when it was proven his protocols for dealing with Ancient technology hadn't been followed. Nobody thought it unusual when he vented a considerable portion of anger on one of the engineers whose weak expression of the ATA gene was normally not enough to activate anything requiring much more power than a basic light switch. That aside, Rodney was able to meet the others in the Mess with a measure of equanimity that enabled him to take the spare pudding cup from Sheppard's tray with his usual insouciance. 

~ 

The flash drive on Rodney's desk wasn't one of his, he was sure. There'd been nothing in his inbox from anyone indicating they were leaving it there for him. Nor was there a note left with it. No note, no message equaled not urgent in his book and he didn't have time to investigate its contents, so he shoved it into a pocket and forgot about it. It wasn't until being down to his last clean shirt forced him to do his laundry that he found it again. 

He listened to the simple guitar chords and the honest belief that shone through in the words sung in a distinctive bass-baritone. 

_To join hands and thank the creator  
And now when Thanksgiving is due_

Rodney reached out to turn it off, but pulled back when Johnny Cash didn't mention birds or shoes.

_This year when I count my blessings_  
I’m thanking the Lord He made you.  
This year when I count my blessings  
I’m thanking the Lord He made you. 

"What? Wait," Rodney spluttered a bit before going quiet and listening carefully. Then he played it three more times through. 

As if on autopilot, he collected his washing, folded it up and put it away. If he were reading things correctly, and he was sure he was, the time had come for him to truly appreciate the gift that had dropped into his lap, or at least been placed on his desk. 

~   
"So, Johnny Cash." He got right to the point after he handed John a beer and opened his own. 

They sat on the pier, watching the clouds gather on the horizon, carefully not looking at one another.

"The Man in Black has a way with words," said John.

"Indeed. I hadn't heard that one before."

"You never watched 'Dr Quinn, Medicine Woman'?"

"And you did?"

"Once or twice. Sometimes there wasn't always a wide range of videos to watch."

"Oh. There wasn't a big choice in Siberia either."

"Uh huh."

"Looks like a storm." Rodney said, breaking the silence after a few minutes of anxious leg swinging.

"Yeah."

"The ceremony," he blurted suddenly. "Would you have…did you mean to say the whole verse? Without the birds?"

Rodney watched anxiously as John turned slowly to face him. His stomach unclenched when John nodded. "You know you could have just told me. You didn't have to be quite so obscure. What?" he asked as John's expression turned wooden.

"Um, that wasn't quite the response I was hoping for."

"What do you mean?" Rodney quickly replayed their conversation in his head. He punched John's shoulder. "I, you know, feel the same," he stammered and wondered why his brain wasn't supplying the words when he needed them. "Oh, damn it. I love you."

He felt an answering punch and warm breath on his ear as John leaned in and murmured, "Me, too."

Rodney turned and just as their lips would have met, he pulled back. "Yes, but you're not getting away with it that easily. You have to say it properly."

After John grinned and kissed him in a way Rodney happily conceded _did_ say everything properly, he mentally acknowledged whoever said sharing enlightenment was the greatest gift of all was actually correct.

END


End file.
